Be Water

i remember sitting in that doctor's office less than 5 months ago looking at a map of vietnam for the first time - well the first time i cared to understand its geography - and saw the entire flower-shaped nation colored an alarming orange except for two tiny spots, one towards the bottom of the stem and the other almost centralized near the petals. a botanist's handbook would surely advise one to steer clear of this flower, because according to this map, the uncolored dots marked the only places where deadly diseases were not considered rampant threats to a western traveller's health. so of course i took notice of these two havens - the one in the north was called hanoi; the other, ho chi minh city. i wound up in the southern of the two, but knew that one day i might find myself in hanoi because despite my adventurous nature, i sure as hell wasn't gonna be trekking through that dense orange fog of tropical-flavored fevers and diseases.

so for tet, me and the posse (including upside-goners alison, carrie, mike, dave, and craig) bypassed the jungle in a soaring metal hazmat suit, leaving the suffocatingly warm, stale air of saigon behind for the untold riches of fresh breathing sustenance in the dew-soaked pistil of vietnam, hanoi. i was promised a cleaner, less noisy city with beautiful architecture, chill people, and cool, wet weather and, from arrival to departure, hanoi did not disappoint in these expectations. strange enough, i may have been most content with the fact that it rained almost everyday and was breath-identifyingly cold at times. you see, i'm writing this a month after having returned and water has yet to fall from the sky in saigon in 2005. the nights are barely cool enough to wear a light jacket and every day smothers in heat - exactly like the one before without even the slightest hint that the following day will be any different. it's a bit unsettling when the only precipitation to form is the perspiration on my nose and forehead. so i was understandably giddy when we touched down in hanoi to see rain again. then sat mesmerized during the cab ride to the hotel, wistfully watching the windshield wipers winking, whisking away the wetness on the window. oh what a wonderful way to wait - water washing, singing swish-swashing by revolving tires evolving along a wire a million tireless miles, longing listlessly while chilling blissfully, nestled in this silly vessel listening.

when i arrived at the hotel, i dropped my suitcase and backpack on the floor, grabbed my black adidas earwarmer, put it on upside-down (or right-side up, depending), and hit up hanoi for the first of several memorable nights in the capital of vietnam.

stories about chinks, dog meat, scrabble, torn tree branches, and chicken flu to follow.